So, it was my first time, right. It wasn't quite what I had expected it to be. It kind of sucked, come to think of it. No pun intended, of course. Hell, if I want to pun it up I'll do better than that.

Okay, so we were outside smoking when we both decided that the world was far too cold for human existence. There was a door into the building right next to us that happened to have a heater blowing nice, hot air with the force of a thousand storms. How lucky! He started leaning over it, propping himself on the wall. He made a comment rather like, “This feels like sex,” as the hot air engulfed his nether regions. He moaned a bit, which was extremely hot, considering I had made vow to not touch myself again until getting laid. As such, I hadn't released in roughly four months. We both sat down on the header, which felt nice considering my ass was about to fall off from the cold and I decided that it would be totally cool to start rubbing his crotch. And hey, it was cool! He got hard, which is always fun. I gave him a suggestive look and walked down the steps right in front of us, which lead to an abandoned part of the basement. Sounding kinky yet? Good, because it was.

He leaned against a wall and I pulled down his pants and boxers. He was definitely, erm.. shall we say, ready? I wasn't entirely sure what to do, so I just put him in my mouth. I won't go into any more detail than that. Anyway, he came about three minutes later. He looked down and picked up a rock, smiled and said, “Ooh, a souvenir!”

Okay, seriously? I guess that makes me a fucking tourist attraction.

To make matters worse, he pulled his pants up and started getting ready to go. What the fuck?!

“Don't I get one too?” I smiled innocently.

He groaned a bit, which should have been my first indicator that this guy wasn't in it for the love. I did as he did and leaned against the wall, letting him take off my pants and boxer briefs, which was a relief as they were uncomfortably tight by that point. Then, he went down on me. I just kind of stood there for a while, thinking to myself, “This is it?”

Don't get me wrong, it felt good, sure, but it wasn't incredibly stimulating. In fact, it hurt a little bit. He teeth scraped ever so slightly and his trim little beard kind of hurt. Even so, it felt good but it just wasn't enough to get me off. He seemed to realize this and started giving me a hand job, but if you know that happens if you're wiping down wet glass as it dries, you get the point. It hurt. A lot. Friction = bad!

After about fifteen minutes, he looked at me and asked, “Anywhere close?”

“Nope.”

Then, he looked at me and said the most humiliating thing he could have said to me at that moment. “I think you've got Cum-Block.”

He said it as casually as if he was telling me I had a pen mark on my arm. Sorry I don't like voyeurism and pain.

Then, he said this:

“Why don't you finish yourself?”

What the fuck?! In any case, I did.

When I finished, he looking extremely board, we went up the stairs and exited the door we came in through. We smoked a cigarette and after a few minutes he withdrew the “souvenir” from his pocket and chucked it toward the train tracks.

So, I'm a tourist attraction and my souvenirs are shitty?

Oh well, that's what I get for thinking that a good blowjob will prod some love from the guy I've lusted over for months. Virginity is over-rated, in any case. Hell, I lost mine in an abandoned stairwell.